


Dizzy in love

by DracoIgnis



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Dating, Drive-In Theater, F/M, Flirting, Jonerys, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 14:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21162944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoIgnis/pseuds/DracoIgnis
Summary: Jon takes Daenerys to the movies in the hopes of getting to know her better. But how can he charm her? By being smart, cool, shy - or perhaps just himself? A Jonerys AU short story with original artwork.





	Dizzy in love

..

As Jon saw her, he felt dizzy at once:

Daenerys Targaryen, perfectly dressed in red, her silver hair pinned back, her lips painted. They tucked into a smile as she stepped from the front door to his convertible, her fingertips shortly brushing across her black stockings before they rested at her back.

“Evening,” she said.

Jon jumped from his seat, opening the passenger door in haste. “Miss,” he said, “you look-...” He shook his head and just whistled.

Daenerys patted his chest as she slipped past him into the car. “A perfect gentleman as always, I see,” she chuckled, and, as Jon flushed, added: “I like a man who knows how to treat a lady.”

_ Oh I know how to treat a lady, _ Jon thought, his gaze not leaving her once as he settled back into the driver’s seat, fingertips drumming down the leather cover on the steering wheel. _ I know how to treat her good. _

It had taken him _ months _ to convince Daenerys to go on a date. He partially blamed it on her brother, Viserys, who seemed determined to ruin her every relationship. In fact, he guarded the house phone so heavily that they’d developed their own language for talking to each other privately. Everything had a double-meaning; ‘rainy weather’ meant ‘I miss you’, ‘blue socks’ meant ‘I want you’, ‘homework on Sunday’ meant ‘do me now’.

_ Of course, I never got around to using that one, _ Jon thought as he started driving them toward the theatre, peeking at her from the corners of his eyes. She was leaning onto the door, her hair fluttering in the warm summer breeze, her eyes seeking their surroundings. _ But maybe after tonight. _

So Viserys was partially to blame but, painfully, so was Jon himself. Because Jon wanted Daenerys. In fact, he wanted her _ so badly _ that it had become a running gag across campus. He knew people whispered about them in the hallways, but he never realised how bad it was until he heard someone refer to unrequited love as ‘pulling a Jon’. That’s when he knew he had to act. He just never expected it to take _ so much work. _

Dates were normally not an issue to Jon. He’d meet a girl, ask her out, and she’d say yes. Daenerys, however, had shown no interest in him since they met. The sweet talking on the phone was just that - sweet. On campus, he’d tried to be a bit more forward, flirting with her in the hallways, holding the door, picking up her books - but it had no results. She just thanked him and moved on. So he’d swapped to a James Dean look, desperate to get noticed. Still, she’d pulled at his leather jacket and just asked him to wash it once in a while.

_ I just don’t know what she wants, _ Jon thought, _ but I’m going to find out. _

After a few minutes of silence, Jon cleared his throat. “You look really nice tonight,” he said, finally pulling himself together.

Daenerys turned to look at him, her brows quirked. “Oh, that’s what the whistle meant?” she asked innocently.

“Sometimes words are hard,” Jon said.

“Just words?” she teased, causing him to blush deeply.

Jon’s fingers closed tightly around the wheel. “Just words,” he mumbled, though in his thoughts he added, _ Words and other things _.

As they arrived at the drive-in theatre, Jon paid their entrance and parked as close to the screen as he could get. Daenerys grabbed the speaker off the stand and hung it onto the windscreen, asking: “What are we watching?”

“High Noon,” Jon said, “it’s a western.”

“Oh, lovely,” she replied, although he thought her voice sounded dull. As she leaned back into the seat, she stretched her arms and yawned: “Viserys loves westerns. It’s all he ever wants to watch.”

“Really?” Jon said in honest surprise. “He doesn’t seem like the type.”

“What type does he seem like?”

Jon mused: “Horror?”

Daenerys laughed. “Don’t get too brash,” she smirked, “we still aren’t that well acquainted.” She rested her hands in her lap, straightening up as she appeared a perfect proper lady. For a moment, Jon thought she’d ask him something of importance, like:

  * “When do you plan to marry?”
  * “How many kids do you plan on having?”
  * “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

But instead she asked: “Have you got a smoke?”

Jon blinked. “A smoke?”

“Don’t play a fool,” Daenerys said, rolling her eyes, “I see you at campus, wearing your leather jackets and smoking your cigarettes whilst whistling at the cheerleaders.”

Jon flushed. “I do no such thing,” he said, but still pulled out a pack of smokes from his jeans.

Daenerys didn’t wait for him to offer - she grabbed a cigarette from the pack, then leaned forward to allow him to light it. As she had a drag, her eyes rolled back in pleasure, and if it hadn’t been such an odd sight to him, Jon might’ve laughed.

As she smoke seeped from her lips, Jon said quietly: “I never thought you to be a smoker.”

“Why? Because I’m _ so innocent?_” Daenerys held the smoke out over the car door as she tapped off the ashes. “Please, Jon, you only know part of me.”

“What’s the other part?” he asked.

Daenerys popped the smoke to her lips as she smirked: “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Something in Jon stirred. It was that feeling he had when he first saw her - he felt dizzy. Dizzy on her looks, on her words, on her attitude. Something about her drew him closer. _ Perhaps, _ he thought, lighting himself a smoke as he eyed her, _ it’s the fact that I can’t quite pinpoint her. _

Daenerys was sweet, like when she called him ‘Mr Snow’ on the phone. She was clever, like when she helped him with maths, crunching numbers as if they were a second language to her. She was naughty, like when she looked at him from across the cafeteria, her fingertips travelling down her neck, past her chest, _ further. _

_ Who are you? _ he thought, watching her as she closed her eyes and leaned the seat back, the smoke rocking between her plump lips, _ and why did you agree to date me? _

As darkness settled and the screen lit up, Jon’s mind churned for something to say. He wanted to be cool, but casual. Interesting, not aloof. He wanted to _ impress. _ So he ran his fingers through his hair, slicking back the black curls, turned in his seat and was about to say something when she spoke first:

“How many girls have you kissed in this car of yours?”

Jon blinked at the question. He squirmed on the spot, his hand dragging through his hair once more. This time, however, he wasn’t trying to improve his looks but just buy time. “Well,” he said shyly, “that’s- well, that’s quite the question.”

“Sorry, I forgot you’re not all that good at numbers,” she spoke cockily. She had one last drag of her smoke before flinging the cigarette aside. “Names will do too.” She glanced at him with a cheeky glimpse to her eyes, and Jon felt his face grow warm under her gaze.

“You make me sound like some sort of bad boy,” Jon said.

She cocked her head. “Are you not?”

_ Do you want me to be? _ Jon licked his lips. He was at a loss for words, staring into her violet eyes, and he felt his mouth go dry. _ No, _ he assured himself, _ every girl wants to feel special. She wants me to charm her. _ “Daenerys,” he said, picking his words with care, “there is no other girl that I would rather-”

“Oh, stop it.” She reached over and snatched the cigarette from his hand, placing it between her own lips as she finished it. It only took her a few drags; once ashes were clinging onto the filter, she dropped that one too and sighed out the smoke. “You don’t have to give me your usual spiel.”

“It’s not _ usual_,” Jon insisted.

“Do you make a new one for every girl?”

Jon scratched his neck at her words. Sweat had started to form at his hairline. “It’s not that,” he continued, but he felt vexed at her attitude. _ So she doesn’t want a bad boy, and she doesn’t want a nice boy? What does she want? _ As he glanced at her, he found her staring back at him with indifference, and he felt his heart clench as he thought: _ Perhaps she’s only here out of pity? _

The first ad started playing on screen. As silence fell between them, Jon and Daenerys both leaned back in their seats, staring at the cartoon hotdog dancing, and Jon thought, _ This turned out very different from what I imagined. _

It wasn’t until the movie started playing that Daenerys spoke again. “Jon,” she said, not looking at him, her eyes still following the actors.

Jon glanced toward her, but quickly averted his eyes before she could catch him looking. He appeared engaged in the movie as he mumbled: “Mh-hmm?”

“Did you bring me here to get laid?” Her voice was innocent, so much so in fact that Jon didn’t realise the question at first. He was nodding his head, mindlessly turning her words in his head, before what she’d said suddenly hit him.

In haste, he turned to face her, furiously shaking his head. “Of course not!”

“Then I just don’t get it.” Daenerys cocked her head, still watching the screen as she continued: “You’re all these different people.”

Jon furrowed his brows. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Daenerys popped her lips. “Well,” she started, “when you speak with me on the phone, you’re awfully sweet. Always asking about my day, like a real gentleman. Then, when you see me on campus, you’re like a cheeky friend.” She shrugged. “Always have a naughty remark.”

“Surely it’s not that bad,” Jon spoke, blushing a little.

“Then you pick me up from work, and you’re this-” Daenerys raised her brows, her voice exasperated: “This _ other _ guy.”

“What guy?”

“With shades and leather jackets,” Daenerys spoke, clearly not bothered by his constant interruptions. “And that continues around your friends. Like one big show off.”

“I still treat you well,” Jon pointed out.

“You do,” she admitted, “that’s not what I’m getting at, Jon.” She turned to him, narrowing her eyes as she took in his face. “I think you’re trying to figure out what Jon will get you laid.”

Jon felt his heart in his throat at the accusation. “That’s not true,” he protested.

“Then why?”

“I’m just-” Jon shrugged, fiddling with his hair again. “Just-”

“Just?”

“Just trying to figure out what Jon you might like.”

“To sleep with?”

Jon groaned: “No. Just _ like. _ Like, someone you’ll go to the movies with,” he gestured at the screen, the film long forgotten, “or have milkshakes with or- just, be with.”

For once, Daenerys was the one who looked surprised. She blinked at him, clearly trying to process his words. “Could you repeat that?” she asked.

Jon swallowed and averted his eyes. _ I can’t keep this up, _ he thought. _ I just have to say it. _ “I just want to be with you,” he mumbled again, shrugging at his own words. He felt embarrassed to speak them, but there was no way back. “I like being around you. I just don’t know why you don’t like being around me so much.”

“It’s because I don’t know you,” Daenerys spoke plainly. As Jon glanced into her eyes, she sighed and reached over to take a hold of his hands. As her warm fingers wrapped around his, he felt his heartbeat quicken. “You’ve been spending so long being so many different people that I just don’t know who you are anymore,” she explained. “It seems no matter what I say, you’ll think about it twice.”

“I just want you to like me,” Jon admitted.

“Then be you,” Daenerys urged, looking into his eyes.

“You know,” Jon said, “it’s not like you’re easy to pinpoint. One moment, you’re sweet, the next, you’re naughty - how am I meant to figure you out?”

Daenerys chuckled. She leaned in, so close that their foreheads pushed together, and when Jon looked into her eyes, he felt warm. “Perhaps,” she said, looking back at him, “I’ve also been trying to figure you out a little.” She was blushing at her own words, and as the meaning of it all dawned on Jon, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hold on,” he said, his breath slipping across her lips, “have we both been playing the other?”

“I suppose we should start over,” Daenerys said in earnest.

“Suppose we should,” Jon agreed. They were so close. If he leaned in a little, he could kiss her, and everything in him begged him to do it. But he snapped back, took in a deep breath and, as Daenerys blinked at him in surprise, brought her hand to his lips as he kissed it. “Miss,” he said, “I am so pleased to meet you. Would you like to watch High Noon with me?”

Daenerys laughed, and she smiled down at him. “Charmed,” she said, “but I would not.”

Jon blinked at her. “No?”

“No, because I hate westerns.”

_ That’s more straightforward than what she said earlier, _ Jon thought amused. “Then, whatever do you want to do?” he asked, placing his hands on the wheel.

Daenerys seemed to muse for a moment. “How about milkshakes and stargazing?” she suggested.

“That,” Jon said, “sounds amazing.” And when he looked at her - her smiling lips, her twinkling eyes, her pink cheeks - he felt dizzy all over, and he thought, _ There’s nothing I’d rather do. _

**Author's Note:**

> After yesterday, I just needed to do something short and sweet. Hope some of you will like it? Thanks to DragonandDirewolf for the amazing art - and thanks to all of you for all your support this month!


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